Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Zimbabwe and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Sam Rivers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
The Seeds,
Monks,
Au Pairs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sun City Girls,
Marmalade,
June of 44,
the Slits,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Flipper,
EPMD,
Dorothy Ashby,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cure,
Dead Boys,
Juan Atkins,
Arcadia,
Television Personalities,
Michelle Simonal,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Chrome,
Severed Heads,
Johnny Osbourne,
Susan Cadogan,
Neil Young,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wolf Eyes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Spoonie Gee,
Harmonia,
The Detroit Cobras,
Electric Prunes,
Yazoo,
John Cale,
Mars,
Dual Sessions,
Curtis Mayfield,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crash Course in Science,
Sex Pistols,
Bootsy Collins,
In Retrospect,
The Smoke,
Chris Corsano,
The Grass Roots,
Adolescents,
Gerry Rafferty,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Moon,
Make Up,
Anakelly,
X-Ray Spex,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bluetip,
Delta 5,
Ken Boothe,
Nation of Ulysses,
Funky Four + One,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.